


the truth you tell casual strangers and people you meet

by oxygenlove



Series: the five kinds of truth [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Romance, Secret Relationship, nonAU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 10:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17282066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxygenlove/pseuds/oxygenlove
Summary: filming an MV can be exhausting but the ride back home makes it worth it





	the truth you tell casual strangers and people you meet

**Author's Note:**

> **The Five Kinds of Truth**  
>  _set to[time walking through memories](https://youtu.be/HW5HU6o1eMA?t=14s) by nell_
> 
> There are 5 kinds of truth: the truth you tell casual strangers and people you meet, the truth you tell your friends and family, the truth you tell only a few people in your entire life, the one you tell yourself, and the truth you won’t even admit to yourself. 

**truth one,** _early 2015_

The MC is loud and enthusiastic, arms waving excitedly as she introduces the trend idols - E X O! Everyone smiles in unison, hands raising on instinct as they do their standard greeting, repeating like clockwork the promise of unity that feels so unnatural to their own ears. They’re careful not to let the smiles drop, careful not to let a cynical smirk edge its way into their lips. Because it’s in the manual, page 27 section 4: Smile Even When You’re Lying.  
  
Sehun smiles brighter than everyone else, places both hands on Suho’s shoulders and squeezes.  _Do you remember, hyung?_  It’s a question that nobody but the EXO members hear. Unspoken bitter syllables stringed through years of practice. Careful lies perfected every departure.  
  
“Trend idols! Your popularity is no joke!”  
  
The MC gushes in high pitched flattery, artificial and shallow praises that they’ve heard a hundred times before. The usual adjectives that they’ve treasured at first, dreamed of and worked hard for, has slowly turned to cages. Trend. Popular trend. Number 1 trend. But-  
  
“We’re humbled and feel lucky to be called trends after all these years-”  
  
-but there are moments when even Junmyeon breaks, shouts the words at them like insults, like acid on his tongue he can’t wait to spit out onto their skin. It hits them like venom, makes them feel it’s their fault they’re trapped by expectations, weighed down by unforgiving eyes, scrutinized like laboratory rats under harsh stage lights. Even though they’ve given their all, even though they’ve invested more than youth and body and soul - it’s never enough, never the right amount of hard work and determination required to advance. They often wonder what else they can do to prove themselves worthy, so they can break free from limiting labels that suffocate them more than contract clauses.   
  
Trends fade and die down, replaceable. Suho wants EXO to be more than that.  
  
“-an honor that we’ll be sure to repay with hard work. Thank you!”  
  
Sehun squeezes Junmyeon’s shoulders again.  _Will they remember us, hyung?_  
  
Jongin sees this and his fingers itch, watches the crown of Kyungsoo’s head in front of him and in a split second of insanity, decides to brave it. Jongin feels Kyungsoo’s shoulders tense under the sudden weight of his hands. He lets his thumb rub invisible circles into the white fabric of Kyungsoo’s shirt. Slowly. Deliberately. To keep himself sane.  
  
Suho glances towards him, sees Jongin’s fingers curled around Kyungsoo’s shoulders and frowns. But Jongin’s tired from filming the new music video for days. His feet are sore and his heart is lonely. Jongin deserves this much, he thinks. So he ignores Suho, looks straight ahead at the camera and smiles the easy smile he has perfected through the years. Jongin feels, maybe, a tiny bit bad but the warmth seeping through his palm keeps him steady. He deserves this, he reasons to himself. He deserves more than empty praises from loud MCs.  
  
The interview was promised to be quick, straight to the point and concise. Keep it short, keep it simple. Baekhyun is bright-eyed wit, sharp and cutting. He describes the MV in vague broad strokes, general terms repeated like muscle memory. Suho describes the song, reciting the words he has memorized for weeks into the mic with robotic precision. Chanyeol cracks an unwelcome joke and everyone laughs. But Jongin can’t tell if it’s the joke they’re laughing at or Suho. Jongin glances and sees Junmyeon smile brighter, the sides of his lips about to rip from happiness. It’s in the cue cards. To smile and laugh even if it hurts. Jongin too, learned this the hard way. His hold on Kyungsoo’s shoulder begins to feel more like an anchor.  
  
Kyungsoo smiles throughout, silent and observant.  
  
“How about Kai?”  
  
One two seconds missed timing.  
  
Jongin didn’t hear the question, his mind blank for a couple of seconds.  
  
“Yes, Kai. Who are you closest to these days?” Baekhyun repeats for him. They know. It has happened to them too, fatigue so heavy it rolls through their body in waves, mind and body asleep while standing up that they space out during interviews. Jongin turns his head, smiles at Baekhyun in gratitude. Baekhyun smiles back.  
  
“Well, all the hyungs take good care of me. Even our maknae Sehun is nice once in a while,” Jongin pauses and smiles as the other members laugh, Sehun reaching over to hit Jongin’s arm in mock-anger, an action that will be lauded and captioned as a proof of their everlasting friendship. Jongin tries to remember the standard response they’ve been taught, fingers involuntarily tightening their grip on Kyungsoo’s shoulders. “We’re always practicing together, spending time together. It’s hard not to love everyone, right? So I’m actually close to everyone. Even Sehun.”  
  
Sehun’s slap was harder this time, but the laughter is louder too. And Jongin thinks that’s all worth the lie.  
  
They finish the interviews much later than they were told but all they could do was smile as they bid all the crew and staff goodbye, thank everyone they pass for their hard work and pretend there is still energy left in them to last until next sundown. But Jongin is tired. His feet hurt and his arms ache. Jongin looks over at Suho, shaking hands with reporters and smiling brightly. When Junmyeon turns to look at Jongin, he doesn’t say anything. But Jongin sees the hard lines across his forehead and the faint shadow across his face. Junmyeon nods in understanding. Jongin thinks he’s forgiven. So he shuffles towards the door in silence, feet dragging across the warehouse floor.  
  
Jongin boards the van first, heads for the backseat almost blind. He rests his head against the cool glass window, hoping to catch a few minutes of sleep on the way back to the dorm. He thinks of long showers and warm beds. They have 7 hours before their next schedule.  
  
Jongin has just closed his eyes when he feels warm weight pressing against his side, smells the familiar subdued scent of pale skin and laundry detergent. He doesn’t need to look to know who has climbed in the backseat with him. Jongin doesn’t need to look to recognize the slender fingers curling around his hand, palm warm against his wrist in comfortable beats.  
  
“Tired?”  
  
“Very.” But so is everyone else. That’s important to remember, Jongin thinks. He’s tired but so is everyone else.  
  
Neither speaks as the other members board the van one by one, each added weight feels more suffocating than the last. In front of camera lenses and video shoots, they’re all smiles and loud voices, happy faces full of bright enthusiasm for everyone who loves and hates them. But in the darkness of their van, they’re not required to recite pre-written words from company manuals, like scripts tattooed on their tongue since predebut. Here, it’s okay to be silent. Here, it’s okay for Jongin to enjoy the warmth of fingers around his wrist, free to enjoy the thumb caressing the thin skin across his pulse. Here, it’s okay to feel something more than brotherhood. And Jongin appreciates that freedom, that silence as the van door closes, as the engine starts, as they leave the studio’s parking lot. It’s familiar.  
  
It’s not until the van makes a turn on the curb that Jongin feels fingers brushing hair off his face. His eyes open a fraction.  
  
“There’s dust on your hair,” Kyungsoo whispers, like a secret only Jongin can know. Jongin has always loved the way Kyungsoo speaks in hushed tones, like every word is meant for him and only him to hear. At the back of their van, it shouldn’t have to matter, but this is Kyungsoo and Jongin’s heart is as tired as his feet so he smiles, the most genuine smile he has smiled this weekend. Kyungsoo smiles back, fingers soft on Jongin’s hair, touch light and warm.  
  
Kyungsoo leans closer.  
  
“There’s dust on your lashes, too,” Kyungsoo’s fingers move across Jongin’s face in slow deliberate motions, caressing skin smothered in sponsored makeup. It’s an excuse, they both know. But Kyungsoo likes riddles as much as Jongin loves solving him.  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Really.”  
  
“Where else?”  
  
Kyungsoo’s eyes betray him even before he says the words.  
  
“On your lips.”  
  
Kyungsoo’s lips are as soft as Jongin remembers them.  
  
Kyungsoo kisses like he talks, silent and with purpose. Kyungsoo chooses his words carefully, picks the right ones so he doesn’t waste anyone’s minutes. Many mistake Kyungsoo for a stoic man of a few words because of this, sparse and cold syllables memorized for broadcast stations and concert halls. But they’re wrong, Jongin thinks. They have Kyungsoo all wrong. Because Kyungsoo is warm. His shoulders are warm. His body pressed against Jongin’s is warm. His lips on Jongin’s lips are warm.  
  
Jongin smiles into the kiss, lips moving against Kyungsoo’s in soft lingering touches. He’s enjoying this. He’s enjoying Kyungsoo, unpredictable with his affection, spontaneous with his adoration, no manual, no pages, no practiced lines and rehearsed moves. Jongin likes it this way, likes the unexpected bursts of warmth from someone everyone thinks is so cold. Jongin likes the meaning behind every touch, every lick and nip and peck of Kyungsoo’s lips. But what he likes the most are the words Kyungsoo says into his lips, poetic and sweet.  
  
Kyungsoo pulls back a moment, “Why are you smiling?”, searching Jongin’s face for a joke he’s missed. But all he sees are lidded bright eyes and a small smile that pulls more than one heart string. Kyungsoo’s breath hitches. He licks his lips, bites, considers and - “Never mind, don’t answer that.”  
  
Kyungsoo doesn’t say it.  _Beautiful_. But Jongin hears it. Hears the words Kyungsoo seldom says through fingertips trailing up and down the side of his face, warm body against his on the backseat as they travel on the freeway. Jongin hears Kyungsoo through the engine hum, through the silence of everyone sleeping. Kyungsoo’s words are healing and sincere. They’re not empty promises. His lips are even warmer this time. They carry a new silent urgency that makes Jongin smile wider and kiss back harder.  
  
“No, really-” Kyungsoo pulls back again. Eyes narrowed into slits. Lips moist and glistening under the low afternoon sun, “- _why_  are you smiling?”  
  
Jongin chuckles, turns his body and tugs at Kyungsoo’s shirt. “Because I’m tired and you’re warm.” It’s true. Jongin is tired and sleepy but this is Kyungsoo and Jongin wants to hear him talk, wants to hear compliments that are not from written scripts, wants to feel touches not from muscle memory. So Jongin pulls harder until Kyungsoo falls against his chest, Kyungsoo’s weight comfortable and familiar on top of him.  
  
“Also, because you talk a lot.” Jongin cups the side of Kyungsoo’s face and stares at the beauty that he’s holding. His, all his. At the back of their silent van with the rest of the EXO members sleeping, Kyungsoo is all his. Jongin deserves this. “And I like it.”  
  
It’s Kyungsoo turn to smile at that, a smile that makes Jongin’s heart swell with need and warmth, like sunshine that washes away the fatigue painted across his skin.  
  
_His_. All  _his_.  
  
This time, it’s Jongin who leans in for a third kiss.


End file.
